


With Armor Spent

by angel



Series: Bookstore AU [10]
Category: White Collar RPF
Genre: Developing Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Permanent Injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-31
Updated: 2014-01-31
Packaged: 2018-01-10 17:07:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1162318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angel/pseuds/angel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matt loves winter, but the conditions are less than ideal for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	With Armor Spent

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pooh_collector](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pooh_collector/gifts).



> Happy Birthday, Pooh_collector! For my wonderful friend, who requested a little hurt!Matt on her day. *HUGS* Title from the Alanis Morissette song "In Praise Of The Vulnerable Man". ETA: Banner by the amazing kanarek13.

Matt loved snow. Growing up in Texas meant that if it snowed at all, it was only a dusting that disappeared the next day. Snow in New York was a completely different matter altogether. 

When he'd first moved into his apartment building, Matt had talked to the manager, and paid him an extra fee in the winter to keep the immediate walkways shoveled and salted. In the last seven years, he'd never had trouble getting out around his building. The rest of the city sidewalks were a different story, unfortunately.

He got pretty good at figuring out how best to navigate the icy concrete, but every now and then, he took a spill. This time, it happened in front of his store, and he wasn't sure if it was good luck or bad that Marsha saw him from the window. 

"Matt!" she called as she ran outside. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, I’m fine." He shifted so that he was sitting up and looked at the icy patch he'd slipped on. It took up most of the sidewalk, which is why he hadn't tried to go around it, and that also meant that there was no leverage for him to stand on his own. He held out his hands. "Help me up?"

"Are you sure you're okay?" she asked, giving him a critical once over with her eyes. He was bundled up in a pair of wool pants, a heavy winter coat, a scarf, and a toque, so there wasn't much to see.

"Nothing hurts," he replied. "Help me up."

She planted her feet, grabbed his hands, and hauled him up. He winced when his left ankle protested his weight, but Marsha didn't see it as she was bending down to retrieve his crutches. She followed his slow progress inside and made him sit in the armchair just inside the door until they could get his outerwear off.

"Anything hurt now?"

He sighed and shifted uncomfortably. "My ankle. It's nothing."

"Which one?" 

"It'll be okay. I'll just stay off of it this morning."

"Matt. Which. One."

He sighed again and rubbed his forehead. "Aren't I the boss here?"

"Boss. Which. One."

"Left."

She gently removed his boot and peeled his sock away from his ankle. It was already swelling and starting to discolor. "Doesn't look good. Do you want me to take you down to Urgent Care?"

He reached down and prodded the tender flesh. Biting his lip, he cycled through a series of range of motion exercises, and then sat back with a moan of relief from his own ministrations. "That's not necessary. It's just a sprain, and there's an Ace bandage in the first aid kit."

Marsha frowned but did as he asked. He talked her through the wrapping process and then sent her down the street to the convenience store for ice while he hobbled to the counter on his crutches and sat on the stool behind the cash register. 

Throughout the day, he stayed where he was, ringing up customers and doing whatever paperwork Marsha would bring him. She dragged one of the smaller armchairs over and made him prop up his foot while she kept up with the schedule for icing or not icing it. 

By the time Tim walked through the door at closing time, Matt's ankle was black and blue and swollen despite the ice. He'd just removed the Ace bandage so that he could adjust it before making the trek home.

"What happened?" were the first words out of Tim's mouth while Matt asked "What are you doing here?" at the same time.

"You first," Tim said, pointing to the injury.

"I slipped outside this morning-"

"This morning?! Did you have someone take a look at it? Is it okay?"

" _He_ looked it, and _he_ refused a trip to Urgent Care." Marsha piped up.

"It's just a sprain," Matt said, glaring at her. "Rest, ice, compression, elevation. I've been doing all four."

Tim looked to Marsha for confirmation and gave her a tense smile when she nodded.

"Hey! You haven't answered my question yet."

"I thought I could surprise you, maybe go out to dinner."

He felt Tim's eyes on him while Marsha re-wrapped the Ace bandage. He slapped her hands away gently when she was done and put his own sock and boot back on. "Dinner sounds good. Where do you want to go?"

"Let's order a pizza. We'll go home, get the twofer special, and cue up Netflix." 

Matt wanted to argue that he was fine to go out, but all the movement had started his ankle throbbing. It sounded really good to just go home, stretch out in Tim's recliner, and put his feet up. "Okay."

Tim looked confused and then concerned. Not that Matt could blame him. He usually bucked against Tim's mother-hen moments. "Can you make it to the car?"

Matt nodded and stood, favoring his right leg. He started moving, careful to not put too much weight on his left foot. His balance was pretty precarious, but he made it to the front door.

"Good night, guys," Marsha said, as she turned out the lights and locked up. "If you decide to stay home tomorrow, Matt, that's okay. I'll open and close."

"I'll call you," Matt threw over his shoulder as he carefully made his way to Tim's Jeep. 

The trip from the bookstore to their apartment was only a few minutes long; the heater didn't even have a chance to warm the car back up. By the time they got into their apartment, Matt was ready to sit down. He was sure it was just a sprain, but it felt pretty awful. 

"How're you doing?" Tim asked as Matt all but collapsed into the recliner.

"Not too bad. Can you get me some ibuprofen and an icepack?"

"No problem." 

Matt extended the footrest and closed his eyes, giving himself a few minutes to just breathe and not worry about anything else. He startled when he felt Tim's hands on his leg. 

"Easy. I'm just getting your boots off. Your pants are soaked. I'll grab you some pajama pants if you take these off." 

"Later." Matt hissed as Tim removed his boot and sock. 

"It wasn't a suggestion. I don't want you to get sick again." 

Matt groaned and unzipped his pants and got them off his hips with a minimum of discomfort. Tim disappeared down the hall for a few minutes and came back with a pair of flannel pajama pants and a travel pillow from the top of the closet. He helped Matt get changed and then gently slid the pillow under his foot. 

"Ice now?"

"Please." 

Once he was situated, Matt browsed their Netflix queue while Tim ordered the pizzas – meat lovers for himself and margherita for Matt. They ate while watching the movie, and Matt fell asleep long before the end of _Breakfast at Tiffany's_. 

He woke to Tim's hand shaking his shoulder. The room was dim, and there were a couple of blankets over him that hadn't been there when he'd drifted off. 

"Are you sleeping out here tonight?" 

"Think so. Sorry."

"Don't worry about it." Tim leaned down and kissed him. "I'll bring your meds. Do you need anything else?"

Matt shook his head and grasped the front of Tim's t-shirt to pull him into another kiss. "Love you."

"Love you too." He patted Matt's chest and pulled away. "Don't go back to sleep yet."

"Won't."

Tim laughed. "Yeah, you sound wide awake."

It didn't take long for Tim to place a glass of water in one hand and his daily pill container in the other. After he'd swallowed the usual doses, Tim also gave him a couple of ibuprofen and then left him to fall right back to sleep.

~~!!~~

The next morning, an overfilled bladder roused Matt. His ankle didn't want to take any weight, so he barely made it to the bathroom. After washing his hands and brushing his teeth, he leaned against the counter and looked down at his legs. The left was still swollen and the discoloration had extended beyond the Ace bandage. He hated to admit that it was probably time to see a doctor.

Tim found him a few minutes later, still leaning against the counter, and frowned. "Matty-"

"I know, I know. I was going to ask if you would drop me at the clinic on your way to the office."

"I'll definitely take you… and then wait with you to make sure that everything's okay."

"You don't have to-"

"I want to," Tim interrupted. "Now, how do you feel about a shower?"

Matt looked over his shoulder at the shower stall and was never happier that he had one with a seat. "Sounds heavenly."

Tim smiled and slipped an arm around his back. "Let me help you."

~~!!~~

The clinic was full of people sneezing and coughing and looking miserable. Matt almost turned around as soon as they got in the door, but Tim was right behind him, along with a frigid gust of air. 

"We're both going to catch the flu or something in here," Matt grumbled irritably. "You should go on to work. I'll call you if I need you."

"Nonsense. Grab a seat. I'll get you signed in."

His tone brooked no dissent so Matt settled into a chair closest to the door and furthest from the cluster of children spewing out germs every few seconds. A couple of minutes later, Tim sat beside him and pulled a crossword puzzle book from his jacket pocket. 

"I thought we might have a long wait," he explained. "What's a six letter word for stubborn?" 

They put their heads together, literally, and huddled over the book, sharing answers and laughing about clues until Matt's name was called. Tim followed him back into the exam room despite the nurse's glare.

"I'd like him to stay," he said, when the nurse opened her mouth to most likely ask Tim to go back outside.

A harried doctor showed up a few minutes later to poke and prod Matt's ankle and diagnose him with a grade II sprain. 

Tim raised an eyebrow and moved to block the door so that the doctor couldn't leave. "That's it? You're not going to x-ray it or anything?" 

"Sir, there's no need for an x-ray. Mr. Bomer's symptoms and the physical exam-"

"That took two minutes."

"-are textbook. I'm going to apply an air splint and recommend that he not put any weight on the ankle for at least two weeks."

"This is ridiculous. Matt, come on. We're going to a real doctor."

"Tim-"

"Sir-"

" _What?_ "

Matt sighed wearily and said, "Tim, would you please wait outside?" He was trying to be tolerant of his boyfriend's protective nature but he sensed that Tim was only a couple of breaths from pissing him off completely. 

Tim frowned and opened his mouth to protest, but Matt just gritted his teeth and shook his head.

Once he'd gone, Matt apologized. "He means well, but he doesn't always show it the best way."

The doctor nodded and crossed his arms over his chest. "Do _you_ think you need an x-ray?"

Mat bit his lip and gingerly moved his foot. The sensation and motor function below his knees were the most affected by his spinal injury, and as much as he wanted to get this visit over with, he had to concede that it was possible he was hurt worse than he realized. "It would probably be best."

"All right. I'll have a nurse take you down the hall to the x-ray room, and I'll be back with the results when they're available."

Matt cooperated with the nurse who helped him into a wheelchair and with the radiologist who was efficient, if not entirely pleasant. By the time, he was back in his exam room, his ankle was throbbing, but he was told that the doctor would have to prescribe pain relief, and he was busy with another patient.

That was when he asked for Tim. The tension and discomfort were getting to him, and he needed to see a familiar face. When his boyfriend stepped back into the room, Matt beckoned him forward and then pulled him down to sit beside him on the table. 

"Are you okay?" Tim asked, when Matt lay his head on his shoulder.

"It's hurting," he murmured. "X-rays are never fun."

"So you got an x-ray?"

"Yeah. He asked if I wanted one, and it did seem like a good idea after I thought about it."

Tim took hold of his hand and squeezed it. "I think you made the right choice. I know it's not really what you wanted."

Matt hmm-ed and closed his eyes. He really just wanted to be home in his own bed right then. 

They were still sitting together on the exam table when the doctor entered the room more than a half hour later. He put Matt's x-rays up on the light board and studied them for a moment before checking the file in his hands. 

He turned around and gave them both a smile. "I don't see any sign of fracture, so I'm going to set you up with that air splint. Definitely keep weight off of it for the next two weeks. After that, if you're still not able to put any weight on it, I'd recommend seeing your general practitioner, who will probably refer you to an orthopedist."

"Okay, sure." He would have agreed to just about anything if it meant he got to leave soon. Tim gripped his hand and held fast while the doctor applied and adjusted the splint.

"The nurse said you were asking about a pain reliever, so I'm going to write you a prescription for ibuprofen. That'll take the edge off."

~~!!~~

Less than an hour later, Matt was lying in his own bed, tucked under the covers. His eyes were half lidded as he tracked Tim's movement around the room. He had gotten a call from Diahann on their way home that she needed him in the office asap to review a bid and sketches before they were submitted for a job, so he was dressed in his suit and fumbling with his tie. 

"Do you want me to help?" Matt mumbled as he pushed himself up on his elbows.

"No, no. I've got it." Tim tugged at the awful knot he'd made and groaned in frustration. "Why is it that I can't tie a Windsor today?"

"That tie's too short. Hand it over." 

Tim dropped it in Matt's outstretched hand and sat down by his hip so that he could tie his shoes more securely. When he sat upright again, Matt slipped the loosely tied tie over his head and adjusted it for him. "Where did you learn how to do that?"

"I worked as a bellhop for a while when I was in college. We had ties in our uniform, and they wouldn't let us use the clip-ons, so I had to learn."

Tim nodded and gave him a kiss. "Are you going to be okay here for a while?"

"I'm fine. I'm just going to sleep." 

"Okay. Call me if you need anything."

"I will, I promise. Now, go." 

Tim gave him one more kiss. "Love you. See you later."

He smiled tiredly and relaxed back against his pillows. His ankle would heal in a few weeks, and while it was annoying, he'd had much worse before. Marsha would have to handle much of the heavy-lifting at the bookstore, and Tim would step up to take care of meals and various household things until he was better. He was very thankful to have his friends and his boyfriend at times like this, no matter how frustrating they sometimes were. 

~End

Thanks for reading!


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